


The neck thing

by gyunikum



Series: Fives [2]
Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Fluff, Ken Has No Filter, Ken/OT5, M/M, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyunikum/pseuds/gyunikum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five ways the others touch Jaehwan's neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The neck thing

**Author's Note:**

> Initially, I wanted this to only focus on the actual neck touching, but it proved to be to little to write about.

One would think that he has long gotten used to the sensation and the feelings it evokes within him, but no matter in what way the other five members touch his neck, a shiver would always run through Jaehwan— it’s a testament of the special bond between them, and the love that cannot be bound within mere words.

Sometimes they touch him in the same way with the same expression on their different features, like the same painting from five different artists, binding their affection tighter around each other and Jaehwan.

And sometimes, they do it differently, their approach varying as if they were a transparent prism through which they would break the white light of Jaehwan’s love into their own colors and reflect it back onto Jaehwan with their eyes, lips and hands, teeth.

Actions do speak louder, but if Jaehwan’s own demons get rowdier, deafeningly so, the look on the other members’ faces make up for everything. In the end, that’s all Jaehwan needs.

 

Hakyeon has the second most affection for Jaehwan, rough most often than not— but Jaehwan indulges in that roughness, their edges polishing each other until they fit one another like two pieces of a puzzle. Hakyeon would usually squeeze the string of muscles on Jaehwan’s shoulder, a sign that he’s still holding up, a sign that the energy Jaehwan gives him goes to the right place, and Hakyeon always knows how to return the favor.

He starts out with a light scold when Jaehwan gets out of line at the interview, squeezing the back of his neck with a tight smile as Jaehwan brings his shoulders up— and it culminates when they are back at their hotel room, and Hakyeon is too tired to take a shower even though he stinks of sweat and half his make-up is smudged into the pristine white pillow.

Hakyeon is asleep by the time Jaehwan finishes his shower and changes into his sleepwear, but wakes up quickly at the first whisper from Jaehwan.

His hand rests on Jaehwan’s shoulder, squeezing lightly as Jaehwan drags the cotton pad over Hakyeon’s forehead, the rest of his face shining moistly and tiredly.

Long minutes and a couple of dirtied cotton pads later, when Jaehwan finishes, Hakyeon opens his eyes and wriggles his fingers higher on the base of Jaehwan’s skull, digging them into the short, curly ends before he drags his hand back down, rubbing his palm against Jaehwan’s neck.

“Are you trying to generate energy?” Jaehwan chuckles, trapping Hakyeon’s hand in the crook of his neck by lifting his shoulders up.

Hakyeon lets out a tired quiet laughter, and pulls Jaehwan closer until the younger’s face hovers above his, and cranes his neck to place a gentle kiss on Jaehwan’s throat.

 

Taekwoon is reserved in a way, but Jaehwan knows well how to push his buttons to have the older release his pent up fire as if it was a competition, and Jaehwan would laugh as Taekwoon chases after him— he leads Taekwoon around by the nose, and Taekwoon goes without objecting.

Taekwoon tosses the game controller onto the coffee table, the hard plastic clanking loudly on the glass surface, and he allows Jaehwan only a few moments to gloat before Taekwoon lunges for the younger and pulls him into a headlock.

“Ack,” Jaehwan chokes out a laugh as he wraps his fingers around Taekwoon’s wrist, trying to pry the older’s arm off from around his neck, but Taekwoon doesn’t let him, and instead snakes his free arm around Jaehwan’s waist, pulling him onto his chest.

“Stop cheating,” Taekwoon scolds him while Jaehwan wriggles around.

“But I didn’t cheat,” Jaehwan pouts, turning onto his side, and wedges himself between Taekwoon and the backrest of the sofa.

Taekwoon lets out an amused snort as he looks at Jaehwan, noses almost touching, “no, of course you didn’t cheat. You never cheat.”

“So what?” Jaehwan grins, “are you going to punish me?”

If Taekwoon reacts to Jaehwan’s empty taunts, then it’s usually to indulge the younger man in, because the smile that turns gentle on his mouth and the expression that turns genuine on his face is worth more than anything in the moment that is only theirs.

Taekwoon loosens his hold, his arm slipping off, but he rests his palm on Jaehwan’s neck, and pinches his soft skin before pulling at it. Jaehwan, unaffected and used to the sensation, nuzzles into the crook of Taekwoon’s neck.

 

Wonshik excels in many things, but the most important one to Jaehwan is the amount of unconditional affection he seems to have for Jaehwan. It reveals itself in a variety of things from staring at Jaehwan to calling him cute, but the most instinctual one is the way he touches Jaehwan’s neck. Let it be a tiny simple pinch or his two hands cupped around his neck, it’s always with the same amount of adoration— and sometimes Jaehwan might feel it overwhelming, and sometimes Wonshik might not notice himself when the touches get too much, but it’s never put a dent on their friendship.

“Would you stop calling me _cute_?” Jaehwan whirls around in his seat suddenly.

“But you _are_ ,” Wonshik sulks, sinking back into his own seat. Next to him, Sanghyuk shoots them a look, no doubt eavesdropping, and then deliberately increases the volume on his phone until the music can be heard through his earphones.

“I just said ‘motherfucker’ to a game,” Jaehwan deadpans. “What’s cute in that?”

“You’re pouting,” Wonshik shrugs, leaning forward until his seatbelt lets him.

“Oh my god, you’re unbelievable,” Jaehwan sighs exasperatedly, turning back towards the front in his seat, and slaps Wonshik’s hand away when the younger tries to pinch his neck, grumbling under his breath all the way to their destination.

Later that day, Jaehwan would crash into Wonshik in a bear hug, and they would topple to Wonshik’s bed together in a heap of tangled limbs and groans— Jaehwan would murmur an apology, and Wonshik would smile brighter than the lamp on the ceiling, and he would rub Jaehwan’s neck with both hands before lifting his chin so he could kiss Jaehwan.

 

Hongbin teases him the most, though it’s not something Jaehwan is not used to. It’s a type of teasing that is also an open invitation for Jaehwan to join if he wants, the pace of it adjusted to the both of them. In correlation, the more he teases, the more he touches, with no restriction whatsoever— the eyes of cameras hardly any bother, and Jaehwan doesn’t mind it at all.

Still, it’s in the privacy of the practice room where their relationship takes one of its truest form – the other, most free form only blooming in their rooms –, when it’s the two of them laid out on the floor, drenched in sweat at two in the morning, and breathing heavily, hours after the others and the choreographer left.

“You look like a penguin having a seizure during that one part,” Hongbin wheezes out a laugh as he flaps around his arm in a semblance of a dance move, and then continues to pant. Jaehwan lazily swipes his leg to the side, the tip of his foot colliding with Hongbin’s ankle who lets out a surprised yelp.

“Have you ever seen a penguin having a seizure?” Jaehwan retorts, trying to catch his breath. His head lolls to the side, and he sees Hongbin’s reflection.

“Not before you started learning this choreography— you’re so talented, hyung, you can even imitate a penguin with a seizure,” Hongbin grins widely towards the ceiling, and then turns his head towards Jaehwan that the older only sees in the mirrors. “It will be definitely a variety show favorite, like the country-side dog—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Jaehwan groans, and slides his arm over his eyes to block out the glare of the lights. He hears Hongbin shuffle on the floor, probably to get up, but then there’s a fingertip poking the side of his neck as if it was a warning for the palm that slips over his throat, and rests there until they decide to get up.

 

Sanghyuk knows where to touch to unleash a shiver powerful like an earthquake that would rock through Jaehwan’s whole body— behind the string of muscles on each side of his neck just under his jaw. It’s as if he’s spent years figuring it out and putting his theory to test. Jaehwan is not sure if it’s like that for everyone else, or if it’s something that’s unique to him because Sanghyuk never reacts the same, but it would be a lie to say that he dislikes the feeling.

Even if Sanghyuk’s hold gets a little bit painful, Jaehwan relishes it— different from Hakyeon’s roughness, it re-balances Jaehwan when he spirals out of control.

Jaehwan hears the door of his room open, only one side of the earphones plugged in, and prepares himself for the worst— no, that had been when thuds came from Hakyeon’s room, and two doors were slammed closed with so much force it would’ve woken everyone in the dorm if they were asleep.

Sanghyuk shuffling in is probably the second worst, because his hold on Jaehwan’s shoulders is gentle, but his voice is freezing cold.

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk says, almost growling, and now even the yawn that cuts into it can make it any less threatening. “What are you doing?”

“I’m de-stressing myself,” Jaehwan mumbles, eyes glued to the screen. For a few silent moments, only the faint effects stream out of the earphones, and the constant clicking until Jaehwan’s character dies— Jaehwan slams the mouse on the desk, and pulls his shoulders up when he feels Sanghyuk dig his fingers into his muscles.

“Yes, I hear it— you just died for the fifteenth time, I’ve been counting. Hyung, go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Sanghyuk sighs and leans forward, seizing the mouse and exiting the game without a warning, and shuts the computer off against Jaehwan’s objections. With his free hand, he then places his phone on the desk in front of Jaehwan, and launches an application— another game.

Jaehwan is about to speak up when the soft, quiet music begins, with a virtual pot full of colorful plants slowly rotating in the middle of the screen, calmly.

“Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep,” Sanghyuk whispers, his other hand resting on Jaehwan’s neck, and presses his thumb behind Jaehwan’s jaw.

Minutes after Sanghyuk has left Jaehwan in the darkness, the shiver still tingles at the base of Jaehwan’s skull, the monotonous music pulling heavily at his eyelids.

 

Five different ways, the same movements. Different hands, the same feeling. Different faces, the same look.

Five different boys— the same love.

All that Jaehwan needs for the perfect balance in his life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The game on Hyuk's phone is 'Viridi'.


End file.
